


Clone Company Companion

by therehavebeenworsenames



Series: Clone Company Companion [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Cody Is The Best Brother, Crack Treated Seriously, Fanfiction, Fix-It of Sorts, Force-Sensitive Clones (Star Wars), In-Universe RPF, Jedi, Jedi Culture, Male-Female Friendship, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, More Will Appear and Be Tagged Appropriately, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shipping, Social Issues, Social Media, Social Networking, Sometimes Things Explode, We and Bookworm Now Have Our First Ship, Wolffe Watches Space Anime, Writers, clone culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therehavebeenworsenames/pseuds/therehavebeenworsenames
Summary: A Clone Trooper writes erotica to relieve the stress of the war. He gains a following, creates a Jedi Shipping War, and inadvertently saves the Republic.(Back and working on next chapter!)
Relationships: Plo Koon/CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: Clone Company Companion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728967
Comments: 218
Kudos: 672





	1. Chapter 1

CT-0803 had always had an unfortunate habit of letting his mind wander into fantasy. The trainers on Kamino had noted it, but as it allowed him to adapt and come up with "creative solutions" as his batch called them it hadn't been registered as enough of an issue to count against him. His brothers knew he took it a step further and, among his batch mates, told stories of could be's that danced in his dreams. He was quieter than his brothers but when he told stories his voice was louder than anyone. 

Or, at least, that's what Wisecrack said. Not that it made any sense to CT-0803. He knew very well he didn't raise his voice any more than usual when he told his stories. Then again Wisecrack liked saying things that didn't make much sense but sounded faux wise. CT-1503 said he liked sounding like a Jedi. Stutter said he liked trying to impress General Ti.

That usually put an end to any conversation as it devolved into wrestling as a squawking Wisecrack threw himself onto Stutter.

CT-0803 couldn't really blame his brother if that was the case. General Ti was pretty awe inspiring. He'd only directly interacted with her a couple times himself and each time he'd been left silent at the presence of the serene Jedi. Something about her simply felt _lighter_ than others. Like she had a steady warmth about her that put anyone within its aura at ease.

CT-0803 kept the thought to himself. He had no intention of suffering Wisecrack's fate after his ill-advised sighing after the General led to the teasing.

When they were all finally shipped out he didn't think he would share his stories with anyone. His batch mates were being split up, it was rare to have a batch that had such varying scores in assessments, but it did happen. Stutter was being sent to the 91st under General Windu himself and hadn't stopped crowing about it. CT-1503 was being dispatched for further training as a Medic and had decided, after a few cracks, that his name would be Stitches. Wisecrack had been informed he was being suggested for the Command Track by General Ti and had been so ecstatic not even Stutter had the heart to make a jab about it. For at least the first twenty-four hours.

CT-0803 had smiled and congratulated his brothers. His own scores had been decent, above average, though he felt that was at least partially credit to his batch mates always supporting him. He'd been attached to another Squad headed out to join the 212th to even out their numbers. CT-0803 was not shy, no matter what Stutter accused, but he couldn't bring himself to tell these new brothers the same stories he'd been sharing since he was a cadet.

And then Christophsis happened and CT-0803 found a friend and a hobby.

-

CT-0803 was not sure how he'd gotten to be in charge of civilian evacuation.

He was quiet, didn't talk his brothers often, much less civies he'd just met. CT-0803 was a bit bewildered to hear himself described as "intimidating" and "unnerving" by the civies they were escorting. When he'd told Stutter about it, in one of the rare comms they'd exchanged since their separation, he'd laughed himself off the bed he'd been laid up in and CT-0803 had hung up on him. It was Silver who'd finally taken pity on his befuddled squad mate and explained.

It was rare to find someone who was comfortable with complete silence. It was apparently almost threatening coming from a soldier.

CT-0803 had been horrified to learn he had been scaring people. Silver had patted his shoulder and just told him to try making small talk. Like General Kenobi did.

That was even less helpful than any of Wisecrack's usual advice. General Kenobi's default method of communication seemed to be flirtation. The idea of flirting made CT-0803 simultaneously freeze inside and feel like he was overheating. Thankfully, Silver had also shown CT-0803 how to use the HoloNet, which provided plenty of advice on talking to others. Questions about interests and finding shared traits were the best way.

So, when the civilian group they were escorting included a young near humanoid who was clinging to a datapad that CT-0803 glimpsed an open eNovel on, he saw his opportunity. Even if he didn't share his stories anymore, he loved hearing and reading others. It was peaceful and didn't require effort to communicate on his part. Thanks to the _Trending In Coruscant_ eNovel lists Stutter had sent him, he even recognized the title, though he hadn't gotten around to reading it yet.

After a quick steadying breath, CT-0803 made his way over to the humanoid, he thought she may have been a Mikkian, with her deep purple tendrils half covered with a scarf. He hovered nervously beside her until she looked up from the datapad and stiffened. He felt a stab of instant guilt as her blue eyes widened with alarm and curled his shoulders down trying to appear smaller.

"Hello," CT-0803 said and was proud to find his voice did not shake as it was prone to when he was interacting with a new person. 

There was a moment of hesitation, but she finally responded, somewhat quietly with an echoed, "Hello."

CT-0803 felt a brief moment of triumphant at that response and quickly rushed to continue before he could talk himself out of it.

"You're, ah, reading _The Sweet Blooms of Lothal_," It was a statement, not a question like he practiced. She froze at the comment going a bright shade of lavender and looking vaguely horrified. CT-0803 felt a mirroring panic twisting his stomach and rushed onward, more forceful than he meant.

"I wanted to read it!" he said, voice louder than intended making her, and some of the other civies jump. He lowered his voice, eyes dropping from her face, feeling a tautness going across his heating face that was thankfully hidden behind his helmet. His voice lowered, barely more than a whisper as he trailed off. "I-I wanted to know if you thought it was any good..."

He could feel his squad mates and the other civies in the transport, clearly not having heard the rest of the conversation, looking at them concerned. CT-0803 wanted more than anything to be back at camp or on the _Negotiator _far away from this attempt. His throat felt strangled closed and his entire body felt hot and horrified.

He looked up after the silence lingered to find the Mikkian looking at him mouth open in shock. She didn't look frightened anymore though and she seemed to catch herself.

"_You_," she said voice dripping with disbelief so strong it made CT-0803 want to vomit. "You want to read _this_?"

Did civies genuinely think they were nothing more than bodies for fighting? CT-0803 knew they weren't technically people. All of them knew that on some level. People couldn't be bought or sold under Republic Law. But all the _vod _had been purchased. They were an investment.

"We can read," CT-0803 said, whispered really, a weak defense. Somehow this made things worse. The Mikkian went lavender again and started stuttering.

"Th-that wasn't-I didn't mean-" She took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself, before talking fast in a voice several octaves higher. "Itisareallygoodstory. Doyouwantohearaboutit?"

It took a moment for CT-0803 to process what she was saying, though he did register she was embarrassed now, rather than intimidated or horrified. He nodded and the Mikkian dove into a quick and passionate run down of the story, not allowing a pause for him to speak.

CT-0803 relaxed slowly and listened intently. By the time they'd finished the mission the Mikkian, Rasa, had given him her copy to read for himself. 

He counted it as a success and accepted the gift thrilled. She'd seemed even more embarrassed by his thanks and left her comm contact so he could tell her his thoughts after he finished.

-

_The Sweet Blooms of Lothal _turned out to be an educational experience for CT-0803. It was a Romance. Something he'd never read before though he was familiar with the concept from Waxer's beloved holodrama series. It was also an apparent subgenre called erotica. At first, CT-0803 wasn't sure what to make of the story, very different than what he'd read so far, but he found he appreciated it. It was an enjoyable read, well paced, and compelling. He found he enjoyed the focus on the relationship between the characters and the characters themselves as well as the happy ending. A lot of the stories he'd found so far that were on the top lists to read were rather saddening. It was nice to experience something that didn't remind him of how bad the galaxy could be.

Rasa, who he did email after he finished, eager to share his thoughts, assured him that the entire Romance genre was built on the necessity of a happy ending. She emailed him a list of recommendations and few of her own eNovels to download. CT-0803 dove in happily.

His squad mates quickly picked up on his reading habits if not the full details of what the stories contained and he finally received a name. One that made him smile.

Bookworm.


	2. Chapter 2

Bookworm would have been content to continue on as things were with moments of lightness inter-spaced between the war, but never really thinking of _more_. Not beyond surviving the next engagement, checking on his squad, keeping an eye on his batch mates deployments, looking forward to an email from Rasa after finishing a book. He wouldn't have really thought to create. Clones were soldiers and the most they ever managed was when they made their faces.

But then Rasa sent him an email with an attachment.

Bookworm hadn't actually recognized it as Rasa's contact or as something other than an after action report. Sergeant Junior was a good CO, but notoriously hated filing his reports. After Bookworm had wound up having them passed over to 'read over' and more than one turned into a complete rewrite, he'd been summoned to a nerve-wrecking meeting with Commander Cody. The Commander had carefully explained that they'd noticed the sudden rise in quality of the Sergeant's reports and that Bookworm was being offered training in order to assist not only with the method for the reports but, if he did well, other information processing and possible support staff positions.

Bookworm had been scared silent, stomach roiling, the entire time, but had been so flattered at being recognized for something he, _just him, _not his vod, did well he could only nod in eager agreement. He had a skill. Even if it was just a skill with paperwork.

He'd enjoyed the modules and after talking to the Commander, who was much kinder than the other shinies suggested, being patient with his quietness and letting him take time to explain, he'd signed up for other modules that included legal writing, technical writing, and even a few classes for splicing that were coming easily to him. It meant he was reading a little less, perhaps, but he felt productive and good about himself.

The Commander had even invited him to help learn about how requisitioning worked for the 212th and the work involved in managing the battalion.

Bookworm had apparently not truly learned from his batch mate's example and made the mistake of mentioning his admiration of the older clone.

Wisecrack kept cooing _Cod'ika_ at him every time they spoke. Stutter slipped it in sometimes as well, like an asshole, and even _Stitches_ had smirked and ended his last comm with the nickname. Thankfully, he'd been able to keep it from the rest of Specter Squad. They were bad enough about his insistence that the Commander was nice even after he routinely destroyed them in the training room.

So, half-asleep and dragging himself into bed he hadn't really thought much of his datapad alerting him to a message. Rasa was always careful to note the sleep cycles of where he was with her emails so he never considered for a moment it was her. He'd grabbed it, rolling back out of the bed he'd just laid on to go find an empty area to edit it in. The sooner the Commander received the report the sooner they could finish cleaning up this sector and move on. 

Bookworm clicked on the file _thiskirffinghotmess.pdf_ without blinking, far too used to Sergeant Junior's unprofessional names for his reports. It wasn't until he was halfway through the strangely well-written file that made him increasingly more confused--Why is the Sergeant in the woods at the beginning of his report? He should have been in the city center. Who were the people he was interacting with? He didn't recognize those troopers. Why was there a training camp going on? Why can the Sergeant suddenly write descriptions beyond "We destroyed all the droid battalion."?--and the narrator in question began to undress did he stop and look, somewhat alarmed, at what he'd been reading more closely. He closed the file and was relieved to find that it was from _Rasa_ not _Junior_.

He wasn't sure how much better reading about his friend's sexual encounter was than his CO, but it at least didn't have the additional layer of it being someone he considered a brother.

Bookworm actually opened the email to read rather than go straight back to the, rather long by the look of it, file. It was _different_ from their exchanges so far. He would like to think of Rasa as a friend by this point, the only one he had outside of his brothers, and he enjoyed their debates and their back-and-forth about books. But this email was much more _casual_, like cutting up in the barracks, rather than an enjoyable but still formal discussion with Commander Cody.

-

_My darling sweet book lover,_

_I have been _inspired_. I know you have never watched _GRavBAll _but it is glorious and I just spent the passed 57 standard hours watching all of it. I do not remember when I last ate or what day it is, but I have FEELINGS and they need to be EXPRESSED. It's a Sports Animatic and it has left me in emotional hell about SPORTS. SPORTS!_

_I have the athleticism of a mousedroid in an antigrav field, but this entire experience makes me want to go out and toss myself into a game. It was so well-written and fun and heart-breaking and the brotherhood and the bonding and the character growth and the team as family feels. _

_Ashhdskfhskf._

_Team as family is my emotional kink. I am weak._

_I love all of them and I want to wrap them up somewhere safe and happy and read about a million stories._

_AND THE SHIPS!!!_

_LET US TALK OF THE SHIPS! The rivalmance, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, it has them ALL._

_I am currently all about Mikkimama and Dathodad getting together. Let me tell you._

-

It continued on in a similar vein, explaining the basic premise of the story, the characters, their overall arcs, and her ideas for 'fix-its' and 'AUs'. All of this was mixed in with exclamations and references that Bookworm didn't understand. He did as his module learning had taught him and started up a tab copying down the terms to research and another noting the basic rundown of the _GRavBAll_ Animatic she felt was important enough to speak to him about. It did not sound like their usual Romance, but Rasa had always shown impeccable taste.

It ended with a request to read through her 'hot mess' and act as a 'Beta' for the 'one-shot'.

Bookworm considered, strangely fascinated and curious about this change in behavior he was certain was at least eighty-five percent caused by the previously mentioned sleep deprivation. It sounded as if his friend was writing a story about an already existing media, which was an interesting thought. He hadn't known people did that.

Bookworm looked at his list of terms and decided to do some research before he committed. 

It took most of the day, he did have to go through Sergeant Junior's actually report, but he finally finished researching and found himself even more curious. The HoloNet was very forthcoming on exactly what Rasa was writing about. It was apparently a part of 'Fandom Culture' which was simply a group of people all bonding over a shared interest. Rasa was specifically talking to him about fanfiction and a Beta was apparently acting as an editor for her. Somewhat like he was for reports he supposed.

It was different and Bookworm felt happy that Rasa was trusting him with her writing. He couldn't help but think of his stories and how he kept them close to his chest and suspected it may be something similar. Deciding he wanted to do this well, he quickly dove into guides for editing fiction. He'd learned from his modules that different writing had different requirements and considerations on what was beneficial.

It took him a few days to feel comfortable enough to actually start reading Rasa's story, and made sure he kept the specific issues she'd mentioned in her email in mind. He typed up his ideas and notes, read through the story again, and then edited his suggestions into something coherent. By the end, a standard week later and 27 hours dedicated to the one-shot, Bookworm felt confident enough to send her it.

-

Rasa Doplan heard the familiar ding of her datapad warning her she had an email. She shoved the last bite of her toast into her mouth, enjoying the sweet contrast of the jogan jam and rich banthamilk butter. She'd been waiting for her Beta to get back to her all week. She'd felt restless and unfocused waiting to continue. Her sister insisted she didn't have to do anything after her 'Ordeal'. That's what she and everyone kept calling it. Even she'd picked up on it and passed it on to the Mind Healer that Laila kept dragging her to each week.

She hated it.

Ordeal seemed at once too gentle and too much for what happened. She hadn't been hurt, unlike some of the other refugees. She'd gotten to the shelters quickly and been able to get evacuated by the Alderaanian volunteers and passed over to their trooper escort. She'd barely even seen the droids.

(_And now she could barely stand being around her mother's old caretaker droid. The smell of oil and the heat taste of metal in the air of her uncle's shop turned her stomach. She'd gotten dizzy when they'd gone to a club and seen the streaking red lights of Holo Projector that she knew looked nothing like blaster fire, but still drove her to throwing up in an alleyway like some Coruscant first timer._)

She threw herself into writing. Nothing original, she couldn't get passed her block, but dove into fanfiction. Writing and writing and writing nonstop. Her sister disapproved, rolling her eyes at her choosing it over a more normal hobby, but that was familiar and preferable to the pity she'd been dealing with. So, she took over the living room in retaliation spreading out her notes and claiming it as her 'writing nook'.

Her sibling-in-law, Gryss, thought the entire thing was amazing and xe were constantly asking for updates and cooing it was 'wizard'. She'd even heard xem parent-bragging about xer 'little sister' having _fans_. 

And that was why Gryss was the best sentient that Laila ever dated. Much less married.

But it worked. Even the Mind Healer supported her, pointing out she had less nightmares and had better control over her emotions after filtering it into 'creative work', though she cautioned against overindulgence. 

Rasa had nodded along as she usually did in these sessions, outlining an idea in the back of her head.

She'd been more productive than ever before with nothing else to do. They were still trying to figure out where she could finish her degree and nobody wanted her working after the 'Ordeal', leaving her trapped in the apartment more days than not.

She snatched up the datapad from off the caf table eager to read _BookQueen_'s commentary. She could finally start pitching the long story she'd been working on in the meantime. Usually her Beta was more prompt, but the war caused delays everywhere and she didn't actually know where the woman lived. She knew better than to flood her inbox though after a year and a half of working together.

**1 New Message** \- CT-0803@GAR.mil.rep

Rasa blinked at the comm contact. It was Bookworm, which wasn't bad. She found that talking to the soldier a mix of surreal and normal that helped. He never said anything about her 'Ordeal'--Would he even consider it one when he was the one having to be out there fighting?--and simply talked to her about books. Unlike everyone else though Rasa knew he had absolutely no expectations of how she should be behaving and didn't constantly ask after her mental health or what she would do now. But at the same time he was a strange mixture of reminder of the scariest moments of her life and utter safety he'd helped her recapturing by asking her questions about erotica of all things distracting her from their shuttle shaking and the explosions coming from the planet surface. Getting to know him had only made her like him more, though she did have to adjust to how much he didn't understand or would assume was normal. She was becoming very familiar with military terms and strategy applied to Romancing another individual and was picking up on more Mando'a than she would have ever thought to learn.

Rasa liked him, but she'd neglected him all week, distracted by her story and the new Animatic, and felt a bit of guilt at him responding to her first. She got the distinct impression she was his only influence and window outside of the military and that he felt a bit like he was burdening her with questions rather than her clinging to his emails to avoid dealing with herself.

She hurriedly clicked on the email and then froze when she saw it was a _reply_.

Rasa wasn't sure if she was breathing. It was one thing to send the soldier she'd stumbled into friendship of a kind with Romance eNovels he'd clearly been interested in. It was a completely different thing to send him her own _explicit fanfiction about a Sports Animatic_.

And it had taken him a _week_ to answer. Bookworm was always prompt and thorough. Like clockwork with his responses. If there were delays in their replies it was caused by her.

She'd broken him and now he wanted to friend break up for her.

She was panicking. She was definitely panicking. Her finger had already clicked on it though and it was loading excruciatingly slowly.

Her mind was running with a million different rejections.

** _What the actual kirf you fre-_ **

**_You do _what _as a hobby?_**

** _So you can't come up with your own ideas? You have to steal?_ **

** _This isn't real writing._ **

** _Waste._ **

Rasa's eyes settled on the first line against her will like she was being pulled into a horrifying crash's gravity.

_I know I am unfamiliar with the source material and this is my first time being a Beta, but I would like to begin by saying that this story was-_

** _-horrible_ **

** _trash_ **

** _never write again_ **

** _garbage-_ **

_-really fun to read._

Rasa could breath. Her tendrils had been pressed tight to her skull as if to hide from the imagined sound of his words, but now they clouded around her head relaxed. Rasa read. And stared. And read again to make sure she'd seen it right.

"What?" she asked the room, looking up from the datapad to find that it was real.

She was standing in her sister's apartment, holding her datapad with an email from her soldier friend who had apparently read her fanfiction and _liked it and treated it like he treated a serious military engagement._ Numb, she opened the attachment he'd included. It was her work covered in notes, both positive and constructive. He'd written a full _essay_ about improvements he suggested with her questions from the email. It had citations and loose studies of trends from other fanfiction he'd read _as part of research for Beta-ing her one-shot._

Rasa sat down hard and laid the datapad in her lap.

The mousedroid, painted with their family colors, and affectionately called 'Minnie', paused by her to squeak concerned. Rasa waved the droid off and picked the datapad back up looking at Bookworm's last lines.

_I hope this is what you wanted. If there is anyway I can be a better Beta for you please tell me. I'm very thankful you'd trust me enough to share this._

_I've never told anyone but my batchmates, but I like to make up stories as well. I think one day I could share them with you as well._

_Your Friend,_

_Bookworm / CT-0803_

She could never tell him it was an accident. What she was holding was very obviously in-depth work of hours and days, a whole week into something he knew nothing about to help her. He had done this for her because they were _friends_. Her eyes burned. He took her hobby seriously, more so than anyone. And he told stories. 

Rasa clicked back on his commentary sheet and started going over it. She would edit her work and share more with him and if it killed her she'd learn his stories too. He deserved just as much serious thought as he'd given her.

And all the encouragement in the kirffing galaxy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bookworm meets a new brother, is encouraged, and begins a secret project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was supposed to be happy, but then Wolffe snuck in and decided to steal himself a little brother. Cody is offended.

"Is that a gravball match?"

It was the same voice all clones had but there was something darker, rougher in the tone and Bookworm knew instantly who it belonged to. He only kept the datapad in his hand, when his first instinct had been to jump and throw it, because of long practice with General Kenobi walking around the ship quiet as a lothcat and especially prone to slouching his way into Commander Cody's quarters unannounced and drawing attention to himself only when he was right behind them.

Bookworm did not jump, he was proud of that. Instead he went very stiff and very still like a small prey animal on the Nature Holos that Fauna watched. He took a steadying breath and turned slowly hoping, to all the little gods and the Force itself, he was wrong. 

He was not. 

Standing there, impatient and sharp in his officer uniform, was Commander Wolffe looking for all the world like he ate shinies for snacks. There was something harder about Commander Wolffe that Bookworm had picked up on the moment he and the other survivors of the _Malevolence _had come on board. Everytime he saw the Commander, Bookworm felt weighed down and carved out inside. It only seemed to ease somewhat when the Commander was distracted by General Koon or other surviving clones. When he was talking to General Kenobi or passing Bookworm in the halls the feeling started and he could see the edge in the man.

Now, the hardness was there but Bookworm's stomach didn't instantly sink though he braced for it like he would a blow. Commander Wolffe looked almost curious underneath the impatience. 

Which was growing.

"Sir?" Bookworm managed, strangled and clenching his fingers around his datapad hard enough the edges dug into his palm in protest.

Commander Wolffe looked over Bookworm and he could see the annoyance on the Commander's face, feel the sharp edge that seemed close to the surface since he'd come on board, and tensed despite himself. One finger pressed into Bookworm's palm in an attempt to ground him, like Rasa had suggested when he mentioned his nerves. Commander Wolffe paused, looking at Bookworm with a sudden quick assessment, and he almost felt like something gave. Commander Wolffe's stance relaxed almost, not softened but the building impatience released.

Bookworm was bewildered, relaxing in response without consciously deciding to do so.

"I was asking about the holo you were watching. Is it gravball?" Commander Wolffe said, slow and voice like rough water over pebbles.

Bookworm blinked again and realized he should probably mention that Rasa's more colorful prose was infecting his waking thoughts now. She'd laugh herself sick over it and she needed a laugh given how stressed she'd been about starting school again. Registering the question, Bookworm looked down, startled at his datapad which was playing an episode of _GravBAll_ with the sound quiet.

"Yes," Bookworm said shifting under the Commander's gaze and unsure how to talk to the officer who wasn't technically his superior. "_Sir_."

Something quick and sad passed over Commander Wolffe's face making Bookworm's stomach drop. It was hidden away almost immediately and if not for his own discomfort Bookworm wouldn't have realized it was there.

"Kiba enjoyed gravball," Commander Wolffe said, voice heavy and speaking as if he couldn't stop himself. "He'd finally gotten General Koon to agree to take the Pack to a match when we returned to Coruscant."

_Grief_, Bookworm thought dazed. Grief was that hard heavy feeling that hung around Commander Wolffe. He was reminded, painfully, viscerally of the months following CT-0903 being decommissioned before General Ti could prevent it. The Wolfpack was what they called their men, Bookworm remembered dazed. General Koon's Wolfpack named for their leading officer. And now there was just four members.

"It doesn't look real" Commander Wolffe commented, shaking his head and looking at the screen, lips pressed together in a firm line.

"It's not," Bookworm rushed to say and at Commander Wolffe's raised eyebrow continued. "It's an Animatic. A sort of drawn HoloVid instead of one that's acted. Its about a gravball team from a poor planet trying to get into the galactic league."

Which was true, but not why Bookworm was watching it.

Commander Wolffe nodded and squinted at the screen.

"Why is one of them glowing?" There was an edge of true curiosity in the question that stopped Bookworm from freezing up.

"Oh," Bookworm glanced at the still playing Animatic and paused it. One of the players had started glowing in a rather dramatic fashion. "He's in the Zone."

Commander Wolffe's expression said everything he didn't need to and Bookworm blushed. 

"I-it's a bit of an involved answer, sir," he said mind going over the sheer strangeness of the 'special moves' that reminded him a bit of the Jedi and their Force Powers though Rasa, unfamiliar with Jedi and their _everything_, remained dubious of the comparison preferring to cite superheroes. 

"If you have a moment I can explain?"

Bookworm wasn't sure why he was offering. He could in fact feel himself panicking slightly at the thought of Commander Wolffe accepting.

Except Commander Wolffe had just lost most of his Wolfpack. 

Except Bookworm knew how it felt to lose a brother.

Except despite how scary Commander Wolffe was and the fact he was a _commander_, he was also a _vod_.

They took care of their own.

Commander Wolffe considered it, glancing at his chrono as if to weigh this against his schedule and nodded, curt, before sitting down on the bench and gesturing to the screen.

"Explain then," he said, not quite an order.

"Bookworm, eh, sir," he said, nervous and looking up. "My name's Bookworm."

There may have been a smile, in his eyes at least, as the Commander nodded. "Bookworm."

Bookworm looked away and dragged the episode to the beginning sequence. 

"To start with I need to explain the basic premise of the show. The Animatic opening gives a good basis to build from, while showing the main characters. Plus it is a very lovely piece of art-"

-

"And so, you're watching through this 'character arc' to better understand the dynamic, in order to assist her?"

Bookworm nodded unsure how it had spiraled into such a full explanation, including bringing up his ongoing notes of pairings and fanfic terms.

"But you, while enjoying the characterization and plot line, find yourself arguing the character has a better dynamic with another character?"

Bookworm nodded again, embarrassed and not knowing why.

"And you have been debating this fact with your friend, instead of continuing to assist her as you'd agreed?"

Bookworm nodded more slowly, face definitely starting to heat and feeling distinctly like he was being scolded now.

"And you were also hoping to find something to help you support your point as well. Weren't you."

This one was a statement and Bookworm found himself focused on his lap, face and ears burning in the face of the sheer disappointment in Commander Wolffe's tone, shoulders slumping.

"It is clear what you should be doing." 

Bookworm looked up to find the Commander looking at him stern, but almost kind.

"You should put aside your disagreement and help your friend as you agreed. And if you are so passionate about this 'pairing'," the Commander said it with a slight twist in his mouth like he couldn't quite believe the word existed. "You need to write about it yourself rather than harangue your friend whom you've promised to support."

Bookworm felt a whole _list_ of things at that, but what came out was, "Me? _Write_?"

Commander Wolffe nodded with a look that implied this was obvious.

"You're notes are well detailed and show you have a clear idea of how to develop story ideas and the skills necessary. You have the discipline to apply yourself to a new skill or else you would have been unable to learn quickly enough to support your friend. And you have the ideas and passion necessary to create."

That was too much to process, so Bookworm focused on one fact that seemed to be obvious.

"But I'm a clone. We don't make. We're only soldiers." Bookworm felt hot and slightly sick at the words that he knew were true, but they _hurt_ with their truth. It wasn't something he enjoyed thinking about.

That caused a change. Commander Wolffe had eased somewhat during the conversation, but now something in his expression softened. He reached over and laid a hand on Bookworm's shoulder looking at him intently until he made eye contact. 

"Vod'ika," Commander Wolffe said, in a gentle tone that seemed to mimic General Koon almost. "We were made to be soldiers, but that is not all we are or all we must be. We have names. We have interests. We are more than our creators ever thought. And if you want to write stories about two gravball players falling in love than I'll snap the first neck of anyone who says you can't."

Bookworm felt _too much_ and his eyes were _burning_. He nodded, silent and weak. Commander Wolffe, no his _vod_ Wolffe, gave him a quick squeeze.

"Now let's finish the Holo and then you send me a link. I want to see how the match ends and then watch the rest to see if they win the tourney."

Bookworm was grateful that Wolffe focused on the screen and not him wiping his face or how he quietly pressed into his older brother's grip, enjoying the comfort. He had a lot to think about, but first research. 

-

Rasa accepted his apology for arguing with her with exceptionally good grace--

(_WE WERE FIGHTING???? I THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST GETTING REALLY INTO A SHIP??? TELL ME THE NEXT TIME WE FIGHT!_)

\--and was very enthusiastic about him writing. It made something inside him warm at her support and Wolffe's encouragement, though he didn't bring up the conversation except to ask if he knew of anymore Animatics like that. He'd taken to abducting Bookworm during his free moments to watch the series with him from the beginning, which was fun as the rest of his squad was uninterested.

It did lead to Commander Cody inviting him over and giving him a strange talk about abduction and not trusting strange men while General Kenobi looked oddly delight beside him and ended with him asking, pained, if Bookworm wanted to transfer to the Wolfpack. Bookworm had refused, though he liked Wolffe he love Specter Squad and knew the man would understand his desire to stay. It had made Bookworm brave enough to suggest Stitches for the rebuilding knowing his batchmate should be finishing up Medic Training.

The issue he was running into was actually _writing_ anything. The act proved to be very different from just telling his batch mates his stories. Not the least of which because those stories hadn't had to make _sense_. They'd been silly made up things, imagining about how a world outside Kamino would be. This was about an already established world and one Bookworm was only beginning to understand through research and getting to know Rasa.

Everything spoke of drawing from shared experiences and writing what you knew, but the only thing Bookworm knew was the war and training on Kamino. Talking to Rasa had shown that what clones were taught and how clones were raised was _very_ different than the natural born as well. The only other culture he could even begin to have a familiarity with from exposure to the Generals and his training was the Jedi. Not the nebulous culture of the average Galactic population. 

He shared his frustration with Rasa, who finally suggested writing a Military AU, but the Grand Army of the Republic was the only one he knew and writing it about two characters as clones didn't fit what he wanted. Bookworm was struggling, and not pouting, no matter what his batch mates and Boil said.

Then General Koon started touching Commander Wolffe and he had an epiphany. 

-

It was not a very dramatic moment that inspired Bookworm. The Generals and the Commanders, along with the support staff had been going over the course to Coruscant now that the Wolfpack was given orders to return and rebuild coinciding with the 212th leave and repairs. Bookworm had been bringing a datapad of requisition requests from engineering Commandet Cody had left in his room and Bookworm'd been sent to fetch. He'd walked in at just the right moment, mind drifting to his planning issue.

He had been too far away to hear the conversation, but he saw Commander Wolffe's expression changing into something close to annoyance. General Koon must have seen it too, because the Kel Dor Master reached out one steadying hand on the Commander's shoulder angling his face to him and with a few quietly murmured words all the tension bleed out of him. The Commander gave the General a wiry look accompanied by his own comment that made General Koon laugh. A ghost of a smile appeared on Commander Wolffe's face and then it eased into his usual seriousness and they both focused back on the discussion. 

Commander Cody frowned at Bookworm slightly as he passed the information over and excused himself but Bookworm found himself strangely distant, focused on one brilliant idea that glowed like a star.

Commander Wolffe and General Koon were surely _not _ together, but the General could make the Commander smile and made him feel lighter. They had a good caring relationship of mutual respect. It was one that seemed to exist with all Jedi and their Commanders that Bookworm had encountered. 

It was exactly the kind of relationship that developed into ships if his research was understood and a dynamic he understood and if tweaked could become romantic.

He'd write a Clone Commander/Jedi AU.

\- 

Once he was able to get going Bookworm found writing came fairly easily. He lived the world he was writing in and didn't have to reach for the details. He'd been writing so often and frequently because of his responsibilities and modules he found he could write a large quantity in a brief time. The characters themselves took a little more work, but editing and picturing, with only the slightest edge of guilt, the Commander and the General closest in personality to them made it easier.

Soon he had the first draft written and, after going back and forth on it for hours, he sent it to Rasa.

Her reply had him blushing for hours afterwards. Enough that Sergeant Junior had insisted he visit the Medic to get checked for a fever. Shanks had been less than pleased to find Bookworm was instead exhausted and apparently an insomniac 'who took care of himself about as well as the General did'. Now he had to deal with taking pills to help him sleep and Waxer and Boil being assigned by the Sergeant to 'drag him to bed if he doesn't come himself'. 

A long sleep, uninterrupted by dreams, had been nice. But he didn't care for the work he found unfinished. Or that even Commander Cody was informed about his 'habits' so for now Bookworm was being required to only work on his paperwork in evening meetings with the Commander. Then Shanks used Bookworm's own restrictions to make a few comments about Commander Cody setting examples for the shinies. So now the Commander had to stop when he did and was left just as twitchy.

Bookworm was not above petty satisfaction at the Commander suffering with him no matter how much he liked his brother.

Bookworm even allowed the satisfaction to buoy him enough to agree, with some needling to start an account and post the story, when he saw Rasa during leave. He was both excited and nervous to see his friend face-to-face and share his work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bookworm arrives in Coruscant and begins his leave by setting out on a quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was not a very active chapter. Very much set up to the "Adventures in Coruscant" part of the fic and I realized if I started writing them all n this chapter it would get very long. 
> 
> I have a question. Would you as readers prefer quick short chapters (2000) more frequently or long ones that could take a while longer?

Arriving at Coruscant was a surprise in more than one way. The planet-city itself was something that all the holos and lessons on the Republic had not prepared Bookworm for the reality of its sheer _everything_.

There were speeders and starships everywhere. From sleek luxurious brightly colored monstrosities of aesthetic with no practical design to junkheaps of cobbled pieces that barely had the original vehicle any longer, held together mostly on hope. A constant movement in the skies that seemed to lose meaning the longer Bookworm watched the different paths they followed, bisecting over and through each other. They clogged up the air making even the sky feel crowded and layered on each other like the many buildings.

The planet didn't even look like a planet. Bookworm had only ever seen Christophsis with its massive wilderness outside its sprawling cities and Kamino surrounded by rain and ocean. Coruscant had no greenery, no water. There was only metal. Silver, a bit more experienced and more prone to talking, explained to him and the other shinies that the never ending city they saw didn't end on the surface, but expanded down into the planet for _miles_. There were thousands of levels and some people even spent there whole lives on the lowest ones never seeing a glimpse of true sunlight. Bookworm shuddered at the thought.

He was impossibly relieved that the GAR Barracks were on the surface, not too far from the Jedi Temple. They were conveniently located beside the landing fields requisitioned to service them and the Temple was visible on its hill from the moment they landed. The Temple was a place Bookworm deeply wanted to visit and the sight of it made his heart jump.

It was all the General's fault.

-

During a rare moment of peace, General Kenobi, who had been paying Commander Cody his customary evening visit, had brought tea and decided to _relax_ with them.

The Commander had treated this like it was normal, actually scolding the General for interrupting the work _he'd_ caused them. Bookworm had watched it with faint horror at _scolding a _superior and a _Jedi_. He'd learned the Commander and General were friendly but this was a different level. General Kenobi hadn't been offended though and responded back with something about breaks, Bookworm was too busy panicking over the Commander's audacity to fully process. This had triggered a back-and-forth that only the General's soft smile grounded Bookworm enough to realize was light-hearted and almost teasing. He'd slowly relaxed, accepting his tea and sipping it, the taste was sweet, just a little fruity, and startlingly good, as he watched his General and Commander banter good-naturedly. 

The atmosphere had been so pleasant and friendly, a genuine warmth clear between the two, that Bookworm had actually sat back and enjoyed himself, basking in the obvious comfort and joy the interactions brought them. He was content to be an audience and appreciate the 'good vibe' he thought Rasa would call it.

And then General Kenobi started to try and include him in their conversation.

It had been awkward. At least at first. Bookworm could admit he was, a little, in awe of the Jedi and had seen how they defended the clones and treated them as _people_. General Kenobi cared about them and it made something warm settle in his stomach. He could trust his General and respected him even more than the average Jedi. He'd been made to serve under the Jedi and they had never let him down. That awe though made it a little more difficult to relax around General Kenobi though even though he genuinely like him. 

It felt almost _sacrilegious_ to be informal with him.

Bookworm stumbled over his words and there had been a tension that made Commander Cody eye them both carefully and General Kenobi feel sad despite his friendly expression. Which only made Bookworm feel _worse_.

They had finally broken through when the General had mentioned a book he'd been reading, a micro-history, and then asked Bookworm his own preferences. General Kenobi had made a slightly odd expression when he had said without a moment of hesitation, and very firmly, that his favorite eNovel was _The Care and Taming of a Mandalorian_, a Historical Romance Rasa has sent as a joke. Bookworm though had read it, loved it, and then found the entire series.

The General had started, his blue eyes widening, and given a few slow blinks of his reddish lashes. Bookworm hadn't understood it, the surprise, and had started to feel his cheeks flush--he'd wished he'd been wearing his face to hide the reaction--as he started to tense, but the General recovered quickly expression switching to intrigued and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and tipping his head lightly to the side. He'd asked, voice smooth and curious, to tell him about it.

Bookworm had started slowly at first, still not used General Kenobi's intent expression focused on _him_, especially about _his_ interests and _his_ personal thoughts. Once Bookworm started going though, he couldn't stop his enthusiasm and had started speaking quick, words tumbling over each othet, his hands rapidly fluttering in front of him. It had been _fun_ and the General had responded to him and even had a strangely large amount of knowledge on Mandalorian culture to add to the discussion. He'd even offered Bookworm some more romances focused on Mandalorian history and some micro-histories and a collection of Manda'o poetry he had from his "youth". 

The conversation had quickly dissolved from there and General Kenobi started eagerly talking about the micro-history he'd been reading which had jumped to pirates which had some how led to a discussion on different kinds of _spice_ and their after effects. The General had gotten almost as enthusiastic as Bookworm, voice going warmer and relaxing with him, acting like a small beacon of happiness at the subject. Bookworm couldn't help listening, seeing General Kenobi's enjoyment on his face and practically feeling it vibrating in the room.

Commander Cody had watched them perplexed and had seemed torn between amusement, fondness, and resignation to his fate.

Then General Kenobi with a strange sort of longing had mentioned the Jedi Temple library and explained it had _thousands of years of books from all kinds of cultures_. Not just datapads, but old paper books. Fiction, non-fiction, Jedi texts about philosophy, practical guides to the Force, different books from the various cultures Jedi were found in. All of them in one place and any Jedi could just go in and read them. Bookworm had only recently learned about the word library and that they existed, but he'd never really considered one until the General started explaining the Temple's library.

They sounded _amazing_. 

The Commander had finally interrupted them sending them both to bed. He'd realized the tea was long gone and the Commander had used this distraction to work much longer than normal. The General had huffed softly, but parted with a warm smile and a comment that should Bookworm like, he did not doubt Madame Nu would welcome him as a visitor.

-

The sight of Temple and its towers made him want to go explore, but Bookworm knew he couldn't. He had _plans_. Most of Spector Squad had intended to sleep and explore the Lower Sections, but Bookworm had rushed to take a quick nap and change.

He didn't have anything close to civilian clothes, but he did have his blacks. He suspected it would look odd though and had, after a moment, decided to go check a dress uniform out. It might look overly formal, but it was better than the black bodysuit he slept and fought in. He'd covered his hair, already long enough to start curling again and a true black shade, with the hat and grabbed his comm before he left the barracks. He'd stopped not to far from the building, leaning against one of the newly created pillars which was a bizarre sight to him, carved in the likeness of a clone trooper.

Bookworm had Rasa's number. She'd given it to him when they'd made their plans, but he'd never called her.

He felt something that he couldn't decide the name of, either fear or anticipation or some strange mix. He swallowed against the emotion tightening his throat and pressed the button down in the code he assigned to Rasa. The small circle flickered green and he heard the sound of her voice for the first time in two months.

"I'm just getting out of class!" she answered voice breathless and apologetic as it shouted out into the air. The sound of others milling around her clear in the background. "I have to submit some paperwork to the school first and I'm not sure how long it will take. I'm sorry Bookie. _Doctor_ Chandra kept us late. I was supposed to be out an hour ago with plenty of time."

There was an annoyed growl in her voice, but still it was his friend clear and just like her written words, bubbling with light and just an edge of nerves. Bookworm was so caught up on hearing her, of being reminded what she sounded like and rehearing her emails in that voice now, it took him a moment to catch her meaning. And the name.

"Bookie?" he said, rougher than he intended and instantly regretted it when he heard a sharp inhale.

He could almost feel her anxiety as she spoke. 

"It's a, eh, nickname? Affectionate?" she said and the background news of the other student seemed to fade slightly as a door closed, replaced by a soft electric hum of glow lights. Her voice was pitching higher and her breath fast and worrying. "I can stop, sorry. Didn't ask. I know names are important!"

_For clones_, went unspoken and Bookworm heard the sincerity and regret and rushed to speak, feeling his heart speed up as he did.

"You don't have to!" he said, a little breathless himself. "I mean it's nice. The only nickname my brothers have for me is Cod'ika."

There was a moment of hesitation. 

"Cod'ika," she echoed, pronouncing it slowly and careful, like she was learning the sound and memorizing it for later. "That's-that's Little Cody, right? I mean if I'm remembering what you told me."

Bookworm would have regretted passing on the name, but she sounded so much calmer. He kept talking and tried to copy the way Commander Wolffe and Commander Cody spoke. Calm and controlled.

"That's right. I may have mentioned how much I admire Commander Cody. My batch-mates won't let me live it down," Bookworm admitted. He was walking away from the barracks now, a plan forming in the back of his mind nebulous and a little nerve-racking. 

"Commander Cody?" she said voice still a little breathless, but calm in a way that made his shoulders relax. "Is that your superior? Ah, CO?"

It took Bookworm a moment to process the oddness of the Commander's name not being instantly recognizable. He was _Commander Cody_. The SIC to the General of the Third Sector Army. The was one of the Officers who'd been trained by _Alpha_, who was the closest to the Prime that remained. He may not have been on Geonosis but he was one of the first deployed and he was famously competent.

It really showed how different of a world Rasa lived in, he reflected.

"Not my direct CO, that's Sergeant Junior. Commander Cody is the Clone Commander to General Kenobi. He's been training me to work with him and helping me enroll in modules." Bookworm didn't bother to hide the admiration in his voice. He was fairly certain he could trust Rasa not to tease him like his batch-mates.

"Oh," she said and he heard her fiddling with something electronic, giving off small beeps as she operated it. She groaned. "I have to fill out an in-take form every time. You'd think they'd accept my answers wouldn't change."

There was something confident, almost dry in the end comment that told Bookworm his friend had regained her equilibrium. She hissed again as the beeps increased an aggressive amount.

"No, no, yes, just let me through, so I can _leave_."

The frustration made him smile and realize how happy it made him to hear his friend. Not the same level as hearing his batch-mates voices despite their distance but a startling amount given the time they've known each other. Though he supposed given how short his life was his concept of time and getting to know others may be slightly different than natural born people and those with different age rates. Everything about his life and growth was accelerated.

"If you'd like, it might be easier if I met you there."

"What?" Rasa seemed to stop instantly, the beeps quieting.

Bookworm continued voice firm. "I can meet you at your campus. as long as I know the address I can get a taxi and I can use my datapad for directions to whatever building you're in. That way you won't have to rush."

There was a moment of silence, an edge of tension hanging between them both.

"It's your first time in Coruscant," Rasa said, hesitant and voice filled with meaning. "This university is kinda small and out of the way. Are you sure?"

Bookworm wasn't sure rather to feel touched that she was worried about him or exasperated that she thought he couldn't handle crossing a Republic friendly city alone.

"I think if I can handle warzones I can cross Coruscant in a taxi." Bookworm said with confidence that was mostly honest. He was able to suppress his instinctual aversion to talking to a stranger fairly well now.

There was still a moment of hesitation and then a small laugh that broke the tension.

"You can't see it but I was nodding. Alright, I'm sure you'll be fine." Rasa said with a hint of laughter at herself. And then rattled off her school address.

Bookworm wrote it down and brought up a map and a taxi services contact. He could definitely handle navigating a city alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bookworm's introduction to Coruscant is a lot more exciting than he hoped. Rasa panics again.

Everything was going fine until the taxi blew up.

Bookworm actually had listened to Silver, and more importantly Ruusaan, when they were talking about Coruscant and the city itself. True, the two of them had mostly talked about 'inducting the shinies', which had caused him to share some worried looks with Waxer and Boil, but they'd been thorough in their explanations. At least when you viewed them as a whole.

-

_“-and that is why, my shiny innocent _vod’ika _you _always_ get a quick boost before any night out no matter if you intend to find another sentient to spend it with or not. You do not want to have to look the General in the face and explain why you are meeting up with Shanks every six standard hours. He will be concerned and then you will inevitably break when he does the sad Jedi__ thing._ _And just when you think it can’t get worse-”_

_“You can get credits loaned at the commissary and you will be expected to show your receipts for them. Do NOT use receipts for anything but records and that includes writing shopping lists, coasters, napkins, or otherwise. If you don't have all of them clean and legible, Record will find you and he will not show mercy. He fears nothing. But _you _will fear him when he finishes with you.”_

_“-but then he starts nodding and telling _stories_. And honestly, it’s almost worth it for just one of them because sweet Force the General has _stories_. The little gods weep. I couldn’t look him in the eye for weeks. Then though the Commander hears_ _and he is _disappointed _and gives lectures. Do you know how hard it is to even consider having sex when all you can think of is Commander Cody saying _sexual congress_ and the pictures he has ready when he discusses safe sex practices with you and Shanks, the sadistic bastard, _helps?”

“_Do not listen to anyone if they tell you about ‘special deals’ or ask if you want some ‘icing’ or ‘Chancellor Kaj’. These are spice dealers. It is spice or glitterstim. Possibly even some Death Sticks. If you are absolutely determined to be an _utreekov_ then do not try the hard stuff. Not only are they addictive, but common dealers cut corners and mix in fuel or other chemicals so it won’t be a clean hit. You aren't rich enough to meet high end dealers. If you want to try some stims then there are some mushrooms and teas that you can order that pass through the system quickly and honestly are pretty helpful with anxiety, not to mention _mostly _legal. Eclipse in the Coruscant Guard can get you some safely-”_

_ -_

Caution and confidence were the most important parts of navigating Coruscant and being willing to stop and ask for directions. The lower you went the more dangerous it got. Keep a comm and map on you at all times. Keep you credits in the inner lining of your clothes. Bookworm had gone over them all as he’d gotten an air taxi and provided the address.

It had been easier than he’d thought it would be too. He didn’t have to wait by a taxi box for pick up, instead the Devaronian driver had called him over before Bookworm had a moment to hesitate. He’d slowly relaxed in the backseat, relieved he hadn’t had to do that much after all. Even better the driver had no interest in talking to him at all, leaving Bookworm free to take in the scenery. 

And what scenery it was.

They moved slowly through the traffic, but it put them at eye line with the towering skyscrapers that went well passed the cloud line in some places. Those reminded him a bit of Christophsis, but here they were more frequent like a forest of metal structures with overcrowding undergrowth of lower buildings and vining bridges and walkways like plants ready to catch your feet and trip you. The driver had dropped them down a little lower as they crossed into the Government District. The light caught the shining roof of the Senate Building, squat and round and reminding him a little of Tipoca City's architecture. It was laying open and gleaming in the center of an area where the forest of metal parted. 

Bookworm stared at the building and the small figures of sentients coming and going to it. He wasn't sure how he felt about it or the Senate. No one really spoke of what had happened on Christophsis with Slick. There was a quiet simmering anger that lingered still, a bitter grief on everyone's tongue for the brothers lost, and a sort of helplessness that no one wanted to address. _Slaves_, the word lingered on their minds. It's what Slick had called them. _Soldiers_, Bookworm remembered Sergeant Junior spitting, furious and raging and so _hurt_. A bruise of feeling at the idea his brother's, his friend's, betrayal.

Bookworm had also felt _unsettled_ and couldn't find himself disagreeing. Not completely. He thought of CT-0903, disposed of as a "inefficient product", of the purchase involved in their creation, of the knowledge that they were not legally people for all that they now had names and the Jedi encouraged them in a way they never had been before. He trusted the Generals to recognize them as people, to fight for them. Bookworm thought of Rasa, of her stories of normal life that slipped in through their emails, of the fact she recognized him as a _person_.

A civilian who knew the truth. 

Bookworm found that he found it easier to think of her and his brothers and the Generals when he fought rather than the distant idea of the Senate and the Republic. The Republic was the ideas of Rasa being safe, of his brothers not having to fight even if they had no idea what would come after, and the General getting to go back to being a peacekeeper that he spoke of with such longing.

Looking over the building as he passed, he wondered if that was treasonous.

He shook himself as he turned away admiring how the light glimmered off the buildings, making them sparkle like jewels. He forced himself to appreciate the beauty of the moment, separate from the people below. Coruscant really was a good name for the city. It gleamed. Bookworm found himself smiling as he realized some of the clear domes that shined so brightly when they passed were greenhouses. Massive ones that, he saw when they swooped down low into a smaller, less crowded lane of traffic, contained _grass_ and _plants_ and _flowers_. Coruscant wasn't completely dead beside the billions upon billions of lives that lived on top of each other like a colony of insectoids.

Bookworm had started to shift, an uncomfortable sort of feeling settling in his stomach. It wasn't quite the anxiety and awareness of a firefight, but it felt like a similar warning. He set up, focusing on the taxi and looking at his chrono. They'd been flying for a while now, twisting and turning from large intersections to small ones that almost no one was on. It had been much longer than fifteen minutes. That was off, but there was something else.

A whine. The slightest whine in the engines.

Bookworm's senses _screamed _in confirmation. He lunged forward, sticking his head through the divider, causing the driver to curse, but ignored that.

"Bring us down. Now!" he ordered, in as close an approximation to Commander Cody's voice as he could.

The Devaronian growled, jerking and then rapidly correcting when he almost pulled them off the track.

"Are you insane you kirffing clone? Sit your ass down!" the male snarled, red eyes furious. 

Bookworm ignored this, the whine ringing in his ears like an alarm, and his mind clear and hyper focused in a way that kept any doubt from surfacing. Bookworm glared back, steeling himself.

"If you don't want us to become a flaming scrap heap take us down NOW!" 

_Listen!_ Bookworm practically shouted inside, wanting to physically force the Devaronian if he had to. Everything was screaming of a disaster.

"You will take us down." Bookworm repeated, firm and growling like Wolffe did. If Cody didn't work, maybe he would.

The Devaronian's face went oddly relaxed and he blinked slowly. "I will take us down."

"NOW!" He could feel the pressure in his head getting ready to peak and felt horribly trapped in the taxi as it built and built, unable to physically do anything. The Devaronian obeyed, quietly turning away and heading for the nearest sidewalk, fury seemingly forgotten. 

The whining grew louder and the cab started shaking. Bookworm started swearing a streak that would have made Jaro delighted if he could hear as with one giant jerk smoke started to bellow out and they _dropped_. This broke the driver's calm as he started swearing as well and aimed their rapid descent at the sidewalk. Bookworm braced himself and saw the pedestrians look up and start screaming and running. 

They were going to miss and slam into the side.

_No_, Bookworm screamed inside. _Just a little higher, just a _little _higher. So close._

He focused on the edge and the world, the shaking and cursing seemed to momentarily quiet as he focused. Just a little higher and they'd slide onto the sidewalk. Just a little-

The cab jerked, this time up and they hit the sidewalk, skidding and sparking. Bookworm was thrown back, head slamming into the side, teeth clenching shut as his entire jaw shook. They kept sliding, out of control and fast. Bookworm's head spun and his stomach felt like it was in his throat. Blurs went passed the windows. The Devaronian swore in Basic, Huttese, and a language Bookworm didn't recognize.

Bookworm was going to miss the meet up. It was his clearest, most ridiculous thought. Seemingly his last one as they approached the other edge of the sidewalk's drop off.

And then, blessedly, they stopped, jerking to a halt that sent him back into the seat.

Bookworm's first thought was, _Oh, I'm alive._

His second was, _Why is the world still spinning?_

His third was, _Whoa, I should tell Jaro some of those curses. He'd be thrilled._

Then the door was pried open and hands, gentle and firm, were pulling him out and panicked voices were coming from every direction. Sirens were screaming towards them, making his head _throb_. 

"I'm late," he told the closest sentient, a startlingly calm human with hair like a dark cloud, who was tenderly touching his head. They smiled at him, all gentleness, and spoke in a voice that was slow and pleasant like how the General's voice sounded.

"I'm sure they'll understand." _she_ said and held up a small hand. "Follow my finger, there you go."

He noticed something bright a red landing on her pretty white blouse. He watched it expand and then, recognizing it, looked at her concerned.

"Blood," he said eloquently and then noticed the wetness moving down the side of his head and slipping off. As the wetness slipped into the air he saw another drop of red appear. He corrected himself. "My blood."

"Yes," she said, seemingly unaffected. Bookworm was sad though, her blouse was pretty and white and had a floaty material on it that looked like shimmering starshine, but see-through. He noticed a spark and realized the dark cloud of her hair had stars in it too. 

He felt something touch the back of his head and flinched forward at the sting, but then something cool seeped through and the throbbing began to fade. It was held tightly against him.

The woman was close, one of her arms by the side of his face.

He heard the driver cursing and another deeper voice cutting in. There were footsteps approaching him. The woman with stars in her hair had skin like the night, darker than his closer to General Windu's. The white shone against it.

She seemed to shine too, he realized distantly.

"Are you a Jedi?" he asked, curious and staring. Her dark eyes blinked, and she laughed high and cackling, which was nice, different than he expected, and made him laugh to.

"_No_," she said voice breaking with her cackles. "Why would you assume that?"

"You shine like they do," Bookworm informed her gravely. 

She tilted her head, curious, and eyes focused on his face, but before she could speak a brother appeared. Armor painted red and the familiar symbol of a medic on his pauldron. Bookworm focused on him instantly, exposure to Shanks having trained him that medics outrank everything else. The woman faded away and Bookworm began answering questions, mind still drifting slightly.

-

It took some emergency bacta and a quick brain scan, in the military hospital, but eventually Bookworm was finally let out of their clutches. A mild concussion that should be healed by the end of the day the medic who treated him, Keller assured him with a growl and extracted a promise to alert his platoon's medic of the situation to assure they kept an eye on him. Bookworm reluctantly agreed, if only because Keller seemed almost as fond of the sharp implements of his trade as Shanks did. Though he did have a soft touch and most of his fury seemed directed at the idea of Bookworm injuring himself and the crash itself.

He hadn't been able to leave though, because he'd almost been immediately pulled aside by Commander Thorn, the Commander of the Coruscant Guard who'd been first on the scene, for a report. He'd given it quick and efficiently as possible, not quelling under the strange Commander's hard gaze. When he'd finally been dismissed with a quick change of uniform offered by the guard, he was two hours late and had three missed comm calls. Thankfully, his datapad hadn't been damaged in the crash.

Listening to the increasingly panicked messages from Rasa, Bookworm felt the guilt prickle across his skin. Apparently the crash actually had been reported, but no one had cared to say anything about the 'injured clone' and was focused on the 'traffic problem' and 'regulating speeder laws'. Or at least that is what he had picked up from Rasa's sobbing messages that veered back and forth between furious ranting about the news and desperately pleading for him to call her.

Bookworm probably should not feel such warmth under the guilt at the thought that someone else would care about him enough to cry and miss him. 

Bookworm took a deep breath and dialed up Rasa's comm number, choosing an empty corner and bench not far from the entrance to wait for it to connect.

-

Rasa could not think.

Everything was too much and she was panicking. She was shaking and pacing and then burying her face in Gryss's shoulder to cry. They held her, muttering reassuring nonsense that both did and _did not_ help. There was a deep dark pit inside her that was sucking the air out of her and making it hard to breath.

Gryss had taken her comm from her to stop her from frantically calling Bookworm again. They waited patiently as she threw herself back to her feet and began walking the length of the room before she shook herself apart.

Rasa could dimly hear Laila sequestered in the kitchen, voice loud and righteous with fury as she ripped into whoever was on the other side of the comm. Rasa could only hear part of the words.

"-I am asking about a _person_ you Chuff-sucking leech, _don't you dare hang up on me_! Is the trooper at your hospital or not? Then what other ones could he be at-_Put me on hold one more time_-"

Rasa knew her sister hadn't strictly approved of her keeping in contact with Bookworm and frowned and huffed and looked concerned at the thought of the soldier. Rasa felt a burst of love for her sister for doing what Rasa couldn't. For calling and checking when Rasa couldn't think enough to string words together. She looked at the Holo Projector and considered turning it back on for a moment, coming to a halt in the middle of the living room, but then the thought the news reporters talking about _traffic_ and _regulations_ hit her and she wanted to scream again or throw something. 

She rubbed her hands up and down the side of her arms as she paced, turning on her heel when she got to one wall to head back.

_I'll be your bookmark baby~ Center of your story~_

Rasa froze, turning on Gryss, her tendrils flaring out as they calmly reached out and pulled out the comm. It was old fashion, voice only with no projector, so it wasn't until he spoke that Rasa felt the relief hit her almost sending her to the ground it was so intense.

"Rasa? I'm sorry, it's Bookworm. I'm fine. I've been at the GAR hospital." 

Distantly she heard a clatter that sounded like Laila had knocked over half the kitchen, but Rasa ignored it rushing to Gryss's side. They smiled, calm and relief showing as well, and passed the comm over.

"Bookie," Rasa said, voice rough and through tears that were burning.

His own sigh answered her and she had to take a long mucus sniffle to muffle a sob.

Laila was at the entrance of the room, chest heaving and her side tendrils flaring out almost aggressive, her normally light turquoise skin was a flushed dark green color. Beside her, Gryss rose to their feet and cut their wife off, laying an arm on her and leading her out of the room, hissing, to give Rasa some privacy.

"I'm sorry," Bookworm said, sounding so guilty it made Rasa give a dark snort. "I know I worried you. The cab malfunctioned and I got pulled in. The Commander needed a report and medics always insist staying longer than necessary-"

"Are you okay?" Rasa cut in, voice high and mind shifting rapidly through Bookworm who was clearly _downplaying his injuries_ and being _much too calm about a cab crashing_.

"It was just a small concussion," Bookworm said in a slow, soothing way that made her want to hit him and hug him. "I'm 100 Percent."

The forced cheerfulness in the voice made her decide she was _definitely_ smacking him the moment she was sure he was safe.

"Where are you?" she demanded, catching him off guard.

"Right outside the Military Hospital. I can still meet you. Spector didn't have plans until pretty late and my datapad-"

"Stay there," Rasa said, pushing herself up and focusing on how long it would take for her to get there. She wondered if she could convince Laila to lend her the Speeder. Or maybe ask for forgiveness later.

"I can-"

"_Stay there_." Rasa said, voice shrill and something in it made Bookworm go quiet.

He sounded so fond she decided to smack him _twice_. "I will. I promise."

"I'm coming," she said, probably unnecessarily. 

"I'll be here," he reassured her.

There was a moment of quiet as they listened to each other breath. 

"I'm going to hit you so hard." she said around tears, not sure why she was warning him.

"As hard as you want."

That made her laugh.

"Be waiting." she ordered again, reluctant to hang up, but knowing she needed to, in order to get to him.

"Not an inch _Alor_," he agreed easily and Rasa wondered what that meant. She hadn't heard it yet. But he sounded almost shy about it, affectionate though. She decided not to ask yet. There would be time later.

She nodded, pleased and instantly felt ridiculous. 

"I'll see you soon." 

"Ready and waiting."

Rasa ended the transmission and turned to go talk to her sister, feeling calmer than she has all day. Laila was waiting in the doorway. Gryss hovered behind her an exasperated expression on their face, but otherwise cool as a dead star. 

"I'm driving," Laila said, face strangely conflicted in a way Rasa wasn't going to begin thinking about.

Rasa nodded and followed out, barely remembering to grab her scarf to tuck her tendrils away from the noise of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I may be mean to Rasa, I am realizing. It'll be okay! BFF one-on-one time next chapter. And Specter Squad. And more lighthearted Coruscant adventures. Also loosely inspired by the complete disaster of the many times vehicles randomly explode or light on fire around me!


	6. Chapter 6

Keller, CT-6611, watched CT-0803, he had never given his chosen name, sit patiently on the bench immediately outside the GAR Military Hospital.

Keller sipped his caf as he squinted at the still figure. Grimacing at the taste, he leaned down, looking away for a moment, and gently knocked a quick pattern against the side of the counter. The "jammed" drawer slid open and he reached into the cooler inside, grabbing one of the containers before pouring in a liberal amount of cream. He placed it down and grabbed some sweetener, adding it until he felt satisfied after a tasting. He switched to the whip can he'd recently restocked and finished it up with the shaker of cinnamon flakes.

Keller sipped again and let his shoulders relax. Perfect. He dropped the shaker back inside and closed the drawer with his hip. It locked shut and he straightened up leaning against the counter of the caf station to peer back outside the small window and watch.

CT-0803 had been out there since he'd gotten away from Thorn, and Keller had been certain to speak to the Commander about exhausting patients after Keller let them leave. After a quick comm call, the trooper hadn't budged. Keller, who was a little _concerned_ considering no one had come to pick up the young brother, had staked out the window and hadn't moved since Keller's break started. The hospital wasn't far from the Temple or the Barracks. They even had a dedicated turbolift leading directly to both for emergencies and to help the Healers quickly disperse.

Keller heard someone else shuffling into the break room and didn't look up until he heard a muttered curse with a distinct Coruscanti accent. Keller looked out of the corner of his eye to find Doctor Deacon, or rather Dr. Di'kut as the other Clone Medics and even some of the civilian staff called him, looking over the empty jar that usually held sweetener packets. The Teevan man was tall and lean, with silver-hued skin and matching eyes. His dark hair was brushed out of his face and Keller supposed, examining him critically, he might be considered aesthetically pleasing.

To some.

Seeming to sense the look, Dr. Deacon looked up and gave what would have been a rueful boyish grin on anyone else.

"The sweetener's always out, huh CT?"

Keller did_ not _react to the nickname, brought about solely because the man never bothered to differentiate between them, but he did go stiff when the man, still smiling, leaned forward and rapped his knuckles on Keller's helmet, removed for his break.

"Nice to see the face behind these old buckets," Dr. Deacon said, friendly and smiling. Keller fought urge to hiss and drag the bucket, his _face_, out of reach from the man who hadn't asked _permission_. 

Keller did allow himself to scowl and was pleased to find the "good doctor" seemed to falter a little at that. Keller took another sip, enjoying the reaction. This drew the doctor's attention and he stared a little at the drink, held in the small red ceramic mug Keller generally kept at his desk.

Dr. Deacon smiled, oozing charm, well oozing something, as he spoke. 

"Are we getting caf deliveries now? Maybe you can help me out CT?" 

Keller looked at the doctor in the eye, taking a long careful drink, and waited, until he saw the man begin to shift on his feet, to speak.

"No."

It was blunt, leaving no room for argument. Keller licked a bit of whip from his upper lip watching as the doctor's expression faltered somewhat. The doctor, recovering quicker than some of his fellows had, smiled again, slightly strained. Keller turned away to look at the window the moment the doctor's mouth opened. One hand reached out to calmly move the helmet out of reach.

There was a strangled noise of sheer offense that warmed Keller's heart.

Before anything else could be said a familiar ding came over the speakers.

"Paging Dr. Deacon, Dr. Deacon to Surgery 3, Dr. Deacon needed immediately in Surgery 3," the smooth voice of Zara'hana, the Twi'lek receptionist said.

"That'll be important," Keller couldn't resist saying as he watched outside.

That huff was music as was the stomping out. Keller wondered, mildly curious, if the doctor would report him. It would certainly be entertaining to see Fox's reaction. Keller didn't think for a second anything would come of it, though some of the doctors did like to complain about the "unprofessional" behaviors of the Clone Medics as if they expected them to be subservient. Fox, a batchmate and friend, was more than happy to cut down any civies under the misconception of their superiority. He wondered if he should preemptively email Fox a warning or let Dr. Deacon experience the sheer unmitigated fury of Fox facing idiocy after a long shift and no doubt dealing with the fallout of the accident.

Keller decided against it. It was easy considering Fox hadn't had the grace to warn _him_ that the new surgeon being assigned to their staff had been selected because his family had made a generous donation and the doctor had been "asked" to leave his last hospital.

CT-0803 was checking his chrono again.

Keller did the same. Definitely, too long for a Temple or Barracks pick up. Could it be his squad was out on Coruscant? Keller grumbled to himself. He was fairly certain the records said he was from the 212th. Keller and Shanks had been in the same training session. He could probably find the Medic's comm and alert him to his missing brother if it came to it.

Another set of footsteps was the only warning he got before another person approached. A quick look confirmed it was a brother this time. In the blue shirt and pants of a shiny cadet, sent to train from Kamino. Keller recognized the swirling stars shaped like a dragon peaking out from the collar to wrap around the cadet's neck. His hair, a lighter shade of brown than most brothers, pulled back in a low tail, but the curls were coming out.

Keller calmly hit the pattern and passed the cadet some sweetener packets, receiving a tired smile for his troubles.

Got to take care of the vod'ika.

Stitches was eagerly drinking beside him and hissing about the hotness when he seemed to realize Keller was looking at something. He heard the cadet move closer to get a view of the small window and the interested little hum he made.

"Who's that?"

"Vod I just patched up. He's been waiting there for thirty-seven minutes now."

Keller had been counting.

"No, pick up yet?"

There was something sharp and disapproving in Stitches's voice. Keller had noticed that this particular cadet was even more protective of the brothers than normal. Which was saying something. Keller nodded, but didn't comment. If it was a squad issue he was certain Shanks and by extension the Marshall Commander would be more than happy to _take care of it_. Stitches was practically vibrating in offense. Or possibly because he'd finished the caf in one quick gulp and was halfway through his second cup.

They were both surprised when a non-military speeder pulled up, coming to an abrupt and sudden halt at the sidewalk. Almost before the vehicle settled, the side door was thrown open and a small purple form was racing across the sidewalk straight for CT-0803. CT-0803 jumped up and turned just in time to catch the purple humanoid

When they stilled it was clear they were a Mikkian, their tendrils moving frantically under a scarf. The Mikkian grabbed CT-0803's face in both hands and seemed to start crying, burying their face in the trooper's chest. CT-0803 froze for a few moments, but then hugged the Mikkian tightly. Keller noticed a second Mikkian, a bright turquoise, came out followed by a slender, humanoid with a golden skin tone.

"Huh, CT-0803 appears to have a friend." Keller noted aloud and beside him Stitches choked, making him turn himself away from the scene that was straight out of his favorite HoloDramas.

Stitches was coughing, cup of caf abandoned on the counter, and looked at Keller with a mix of alarm and disbelief.

"CT-0803? _Bookworm?_" The cadet demand, voice breaking in an octave that Keller hadn't realized they were capable of reaching.

"He didn't give me his name, but that was the designation."

Keller watched, now even more invested and curious, as Stitches practical crawled onto the counter to press his face against the window and watch.

"_My vod'ika has a lover._" The disbelief was giving way to a feral sort of joy that only came from potential blackmail on batchmates and close brothers and eventually back to Stitches's usual default calm expression. Stitches dropped back down and smirked at Keller in a way that almost made him pity CT-0803, Bookworm apparently, except he remembered how the rookie had already developed the very bad habit of seeming to think he could walk off his injuries.

"I need to go tell Stutter. Thanks _ori'vod_!" 

Keller gave a small wave as Stitches ran off, feeling oddly touched at the title and leaned back to enjoy the rest of the show. He snagged the rest of the caf the other clone left abandoned. No need to waste.

-

Rasa was smaller than Bookworm remembered. She only came up to his chin and Bookworm knew, from recent exposure to other humanoids and the General, that while not short for a human he and his brothers were not exactly _tall_. There was a strange mix of frustration, relief, joy, and sadness wafting off his friend and all Bookworm could do was hold her, hugging her tightly, remembering how 99 had held him when CT-0903 had been decommissioned or that last night with Kara Squad, holding them close and terrified they'd disappear if he let go.

It wasn't the same, but it was the closest he could think of.

Rasa announced she was finished by leaning back and smacking him on the shoulder. It didn't hurt, but it did make him jerk back in surprise from the suddenness of it.

"Rasa-" 

She scowled and smacked him again.

"I am so angry with you right now," she hissed low and shaking, her tendrils flared out behind her and her face was taking on a light lavender hue. "You could have been killed! You could have died! And you had a concussion! A taxi _crashed_!"

The last bit was between her teeth, bitten out and Bookworm watched not quite sure how to process her quickly moving emotions, but he saw the steady thread connecting her tears and her anger and felt himself flushing and a smile pulling up instead of his usual confusion. 

"Thank you," he said, unable to keep the feeling swelling up in his heart quiet. Rasa cut off, coming to an abrupt halt. Even her anger, not directed at him and somewhat helpless, stopped in its tracks.

"I-I care about you too _Alor_," Bookworm told her, voice thick and the emotion inside him unable to be separated by Rasa's own tangled feelings. "Thank you for caring."

Rasa opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, lifted up one single finger to point to him, closed it, and smacked him on the chest.

"_You_-" she said, strangled out, and her emotions settled. She lunged forward hugging him again. This time without tears. "_I'm so happy to see you._"

"Me too," Bookworm told her, honest and letting himself feel that happiness eclipse any nerves or anxiety he'd had about meeting face-to-face. Rasa was his friend and she'd come running when he was hurt.

_Like any vod would have_. Bookworm smiled at the thought.

They clung to each other until Bookworm felt her relax against him and the storm calm down. When they broke apart Bookworm realized that there were others behind Rasa. One was a Mikkian with frilly side-tendrils like wings. They were wearing a slick red uniform covered by a red and black lined overcoat that flared at their hips and had long open sleeves and a military style collar. On the breast was a small ID saying:

_Laila Doplan_

_Senate Support Staff_

Bookworm thought he would recognize her anyway. Rasa had mentioned her older sister, sometimes with frustration, mostly with love, many times before. Laila was, according to Rasa, the most stubborn, fussy, put together, my-way-or-the-hyperlane, overprotective _ori'vod_ in existence. In between the lines Bookworm had managed to pick up that her sister also was hardworking and devoted to whatever she chose as hers whether it be her family, her spouse, her career, or her beliefs. She would not falter in her faith or loyalty to any of them. She was protective due to something that had occurred when they were younger and terrified of losing her sister. She tried hard to support Rasa even when she didn't understand her.

Faced with the scowling Mikkian woman, Bookworm wondered if Rasa had forgotten to mention or just never noticed that her sister also had a glare that would give any Mandalorian drill instructor a run for their credits. Bookworm wondered what exactly he'd done to cause such a reaction and found himself responding, instinctively straightening into parade rest rather than curling his shoulders up, a habit he'd developed to combat his anxiety as a cadet.

The blue eyed glare only faltered when a hand landed on her shoulder and a golden-hued sentient with a serene smile and pin straight blue-black hair slipped up behind her. Bookworm realized the tall, knife slender humanoid had to be Gryss, the sibling-in-law that Rasa had mentioned once. Laila relaxed slightly at the touch of her spouse, slipping into a more neutral expression. Bookworm kept his posture though wary and reminded oddly of Shaak Ti's serenity, though Gryss certainly lacked the edge of efficient deadliness that General Ti carried with her during those rare, exciting moments the cadets had been able to see her spar and run through her kata.

Gryss had a softness about them.

"Would you like to come home with us for dinner?" Gryss said. "I know your plans fell through, but this way you and Rasa can still have some time together."

Bookworm looked at Laila, who remained carefully blank faced, and then Rasa, who looked torn between pleased at the idea and strangely embarrassed.

She seemed to settle on pleased, or at least determinedly cheerful.

"It'll be nice," Rasa said, reaching down to grab his hand and Bookworm felt his hair stand up and a chill from Laila's direction at the action. "We can talk shop. And I can show you a _real_ cup of caf."

Bookworm smiled. They'd had disagreements about the state of the GAR caf rations and Rasa had been going on about cappuccinos, espresso shots, and different roasts ever since. 

He nodded, not feeling able to speak with two sets of unfamiliar eyes, one potentially hostile, on him.

"Wonderful," Gryss said, sounding genuine. "Let's get going shall we?"

"Of course," Laila said, and Bookworm realized her accent was different from Rasa's, soft and seeming to roll from the back of her throat, lingering on vowels. "Wonderful."

"Wonderful," Rasa agreed, face focused on Bookworm.

-

The apartment was close to the surface of the planet. Well under the various high rising structures, but still above the lower levels. It was mainly used by various Senate Staff members and with Laila being employed by the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, had been given a little help acquiring it. 

"A truly kind man, Chancellor Palpatine," Laila said, falling into the first smile Bookworm had seen. "Always willing to reach out a helping hand, even to the lowest member of his staff."

Gryss was practically burning with admiration when they added. "He also helped point us into the right direction with finding a new university for Rasa. Offered his condolences personally."

The apartment itself was interesting. He'd only been in a civilian living quarters once before and having a fire fight in a bombed out apartment building on Christophsis wasn't the perfect time to get a good look around. By now he'd certainly read enough about houses and bedrooms and apartments to have an idea, but he'd been impressed by the _Negotiator'_s Clone barracks after living most of his life in the pods.

The first thing he noticed was it was cluttered. Not messy, but very _full_. One wall had frames hanging on it cycling through different pictures of the three family members and some other additions Bookworm couldn't easily identify. There was also a strange bright colored bird of some kind, or at least a wooden facsimile of the head of one, that had been mounted beside the entrance. It did not seem to have any particular purpose other than to stare at visitors and wear pointed red cloth hat. There were pots under a window overflowing with a vining plant, whose long tendrils were being hung on small metallic hooks attached to the wall. Every storage space was filled with different items, some of which he could identify, while others he couldn't began to guess the purpose. There was a rock at the center of a table too low to eat on that was cut in half and had a sparkling green crystalline structure inside, but seemed to exist solelyas a decoration. There was also a very large screen on one wall that seemed odd to have in an area that wasn't used for debriefings. One open space led to what Bookworm assumed was a kitchen that was filled with a strange variety of what he assumed was food and cooking tools. 

There was so much. Everywhere. How could sentient beings keep it all? Though Bookworm supposed the ability to keep things for yourself changed when you had a single place to rest and store items. It was rare for a Clone to keep items that couldn't be carried on their person. The only things Bookworm kept for himself, not including his gear, was his datapad granted by the Republic, the datastick with _The Sweet Blooms of Lothal_ on it, a small twining wire bracelet CT-0903 had made that he'd long outgrown, and the medal he'd all received upon graduation.

"We'll start on dinner," Gryss said easily, a small hand on Laila's back turning her away from them. She followed, but not before catching Bookworm's gaze and _staring_ at him.

"This way," Rasa said, using her hand to steer Bookworm away from the living room. He couldn't help but feel grateful to escape. There was a hallway, lined with what had to be a carpet. Rasa led him through to the second door on the right, pointing out the refresher beside it almost absentmindedly. He followed behind her.

He paused a moment, removing his boots, and was startled to find he sunk into what appeared to be another carpet, fluffy and soft and a couple inches thick.

The room was about the size a four Clone room, but with one bed. It was just as cluttered as the rest of the house, but everything seemed to have been arranged to be within reach of the massive bed and the soft looking rounded chair in one corner. The chair was framed on both sides by low shelving that was filled with what looked like _paper _notebooks and datapads and books. There were small figuirines and strangely shaped stuffed creatures throughout. On the walls were a mix of posters with sentients Bookworm didn't recognize, actual _paintings_, and a single display screen that was covered in notes with a stylus attached to the side. He caught a glimpse of the words _caf shop au_ with a line through them and drawing of a stylized Mikkian crying as they passed out cups of caf to a crowd.

He almost jumped when the door slid closed and the sound _stopped._

Rasa noticed the reaction. She smiled and reached over to gentle pet the light purple wall. "Soundproofing. It makes it easier to handle everything."

'Everything' was accompanied with her hand gesturing over her tendrils which were gently swaying as she began to untie the scarf. Once it was gone Bookworm noted that she had a crown of freckling in a lighter purple that crept onto where her tendrils met her forehead.

Bookworm wasn't actually sure what that meant.

"Hyperacusis," Rasa said finally, looking away to hang up her scarf on a stand that resembled a small tree with many branches covered in different wraps and scarfs. "It's harder to treat in species without eardrums. Too much noise is overwhelming."

That explained a bit. Bookworm had gone back over what the training modules said about Mikkians and knew they heard with their tendrils. 

"One of my batchmates couldn't handle too much sensation." Bookworm said. He hadn't thought of CT-1303 since he'd been transferred to Clone Force 99. "He would wear our helmets to help filter it out."

Bookworm wondered about him. CT-1303 was part of the experimental squad. They'd managed to get him to General Ti's attention before he was also decommissioned. He hadn't heard about them since they'd parted and he'd avoided thinking about it, at least partially from the fear of the idea it had all been useless anyway. Clone Force 99 was an experiment and Clones were sent to cleaning and support staff now that the General was in charge. But that didn't mean the Kaminoeans wouldn't try to dispose of them if they thought it was more cost-efficient. 

Bookworm knew even the kindest Jedi weren't able to be everywhere at once.

Maybe he could ask for an update.

"Oh," Rasa said, looking at him curiously. "Which one? I remember Stutter and Wisecrack. And Shanks?"

"Stitches," Bookworm corrected gently. "Shanks is the 212th's medic."

Rasa flushed lavender, but set her jaw looking determined.

"Stitches." she repeated as if committing it to memory.

Bookworm considered not answering. It hurt to think of the brothers that he'd left and no one really spoke about what happened on Kamino. Or when you lost your brothers. It was private, for prayers. Bookworm hadn't forgotten them, he said names every morning. It was different to talk about them to Rasa. It felt heavier than their usual relationship.

But she'd cried for him. She remembered his brothers' names. She'd come running when he was hurt.

_Like a_ _vod_, his mind repeated the thought from earlier.

"It was CT-1303," Bookworm began and Rasa straightened, drifting closer, shifting her weight back and forth. "He had a mutation. All of our batch had them, actually. There was a power outage and we all were a little _different_."

The words came out fast and strangely shaky, his breath catching in his throat. Rasa grabbed his sleeve and led him over to her bed, larger than anyone he'd seen and covered in a colorful furry duvet that was as soft as it looked. She sat and pulled him with her, sinking into the soft surface. Her hand stayed there. Resting on his arm.

The knot in him eased a little and the words came out with it. 

"There were others, we could count the missing numbers in our designations, but they were decommissioned when we were too young to really remember them. I don't know if they ever even left the vats. We survived though and were cobbled together to form Kara Squad. CT-1303 started to display lower physical scores and had other 'undesirable' traits. We were able to convince General Ti to help stop him from being disposed of though. He was smarter than all of us and could process information at an incredible rate. He's somewhere else now. In a squad for other Clones like him."

Bookworm took a breath.

"I don't know if he's chosen a name."

Bookworm let out a breath and peered at Rasa who looked like she wanted to cry, but was swallowing it back. She felt like a bruise but not like she was hurting? Like Bookworm was hurt again? Bookworm frowned and shook the odd idea away. She squeezed his arm and wiped back tears that hadn't fallen.

"Wanna see those videos I told you about?" Rasa asked and Bookworm nodded.

Rasa relaxed against his side, tentative, but when he pressed back going limp and began fiddling with a datapad, bringing up the HoloNet. The more she clicked the calmer she became and when she finally spoke her voice was steady.

"We'll start with classic memes and expand you pop culture from there." Rasa said firmly, a lecturing tone entering her voice. "Then we will do a brief overview of Chitter, RedNet, and Fanchives. Not too deep. We can't have you losing faith in the galaxy completely. You need to enter social media carefully and regulate your content! Otherwise you'll be dragged into all sorts of nonsense. Your experience is defined by how and who you interact with. But first, the gateway to the HoloNet, cute Tooka videos."

Rasa carefully selected a video titled _Meiloorun Loves Boxes - HoloVid_. 

-

They didn't move for hours. Flipping from one video to the next, with Rasa pausing for long moments at a time to explain things in explicit detail.

Bookworm still didn't understand all of it.

There had been several apocalypses at some point? Memes were apparently kinds of in jokes that grew and morphed from person to person and became short hand for certain ideals and emotional expressions at times?

For some reason a particular love song in Zabrak was one of these and Rasa groaned when it started playing in the middle of a video. Bookworm wasn't sure why exactly the song was not supposed to be taken seriously. After Rasa had realized she didn't actually know what the lyrics meant, though she knew the opening verbatim, they'd searched for them. It seemed like a touching love song about devotion through a time of struggle and Bookworm said as much.

For some reason this was funny and had devolved into Rasa showing him her RedNet page and scrolling through the same lyrics reposted over and over in different contexts and sometimes rewritten in archaic language.

Rasa had finally just shoved the pad at him for him to scroll through an article called "The History of Memes" as she'd gone to retrieve their dinner. She'd returned with bowls filed with meat, rice, and a sauce that actually made Bookworm drool. He'd eaten it quickly, realizing how hungry he was, but trying to savor the taste. Rasa had seemed amused, but a sheepish admission that it was the first time he was really eating something that wasn't a ration had her rushing out to refill his plate with an addition of as many 'snacks' as her arms could carry. In between bites he'd been forced to try chips, cookies, candies, fruit snacks, vegetables crisps, and five different kinds of drinks from fizzy ones to something thick and fruity. 

Bookworm found he really enjoyed the rolls, light and fluffy and buttery that accompanied the meal. He'd also made the mistake of mentioning as much and Rasa had rushed off, again, and come back with a basket of them and a shouting Laila trailing after her. Bookworm had quelled under the woman's gaze, from where he sat on the bed covered in the items Rasa had thrown at him to try.

Rasa's quick, "This is a Comfort Food Emergency!" had apparently meant something to Laila. She'd grabbed two rolls and left them alone. 

Bookworm wasn't sure exactly how he felt about the treatment other than full, his face warm, and something bubbly in his stomach. Rasa looked distinctly pleased anytime he announced he found something he enjoyed. It took three assurances he really was full for her to stop trying to shovel something else on him. She accepted everything back and muttered something that sounded vaguely like, "making you a care package I swear" before she disappeared the last time.

Bookworm sighed laying aside her datapad and reached for his own. They'd gotten distracted from the original reason they were going to meet up. It wasn't bad. Honestly, it was enjoyable. Rasa happily rambled beside him about her interests, all brightness and light, and he was having fun learning about them. Seeing all these different things that existed out in the world. It wasn't just memes and stories. He'd seen pictures of art, beauty, food, and life. Things he'd dreamed about when he'd told stories to his batchmates. 

It felt safe and comfortable to be curled up with Rasa away from everything as she showed him more of the galaxy.

He opened the document containing his story. He'd edited again, based off Rasa's suggestions. It had been interesting to hear her perspectives and confusion over the Jedi especially. She had, not really a full understanding, but some passing knowledge now about Clones. He ideas about the Jedi had just been strange to hear. Bookworm knew she thought other people would enjoy it and that he should share it. Bookworm knew he'd even agreed with her. That they were going to make him an account and post it, but the idea was still odd. 

Sharing his stories like that? Sharing a piece of his world to others? Even if it was filtered through the lenses of fictional characters. On a ridiculous fake mission, there were still bits of reality in it. Bookworm had been careful to keep out anything that could be considered confidential, but it was real for him in a way the stories he'd read so far and heard of from Rasa weren't quite. It was private.

At the same time part of him did want to share it. He wanted to share a piece of that experience in his own words. He wanted others to know the reality of it so much that he wanted to scream. He hadn't realized how much until he'd started writing and explaining it to Rasa when she'd asked for clarification on parts of the story.

"Oh, is that the finished draft?" Rasa's voice cut him out of his thoughts as quick as a B-1's _Roger, Roger_. She'd managed to come back in without him noticing. Either he had been in deeper thought than he realized or he really did think of Rasa like he did his closer brothers.

Bookworm had a reputation for being slightly twitchy, noticing instantly when someone new was nearby and reacting accordingly. This only seemed to fail around his batchmates and, more recently, members of Spector Squad. The first time Silver had managed to approach without Bookworm noticing he'd accidentally smacked the older Clone in the face with the datapad he'd been reading. Jaro and Oya had thought it was hilarious. Shanks, who'd set Silver's nose, had been less amused.

Bookworm swallowed and nodded, offering up the datapad delicately. Rasa accepted with a happy little trill and tucked herself beside him. His pulse slowed as she read and he found himself watching her face intently for any reaction noting any fluctuation in expression or emotion she was giving off. He wished he could know exactly where she was when she giggled or her mouth twitched like she was going to smile or she made a delighted little trill again. It felt like a full rotation and no time at all when she finally looked up.

"Oh, it's so good," Rasa said with a pleased wiggle and sat the datapad down. "I think you've got a good balance between explaining the world in a way a layman would understand without too much exposition. I would kinda love to see more Jedi stuff, honestly, but I know it's from a Clone's point of view and your writing what you know so it makes sense. But now I'm super curious. The sex is _scorching_, but also tastefully mixed in with the emotions. I think it's a pretty fantastic debut and I just want a whole series. Not just of these two. I just want more Clone-Jedi AUs. This needs to be a _thing_ Bookie."

Bookworm smiled, happily petting the soft blanket and enjoying the texture beneath his fingers.

"Have you got the invite yet?"

Bookworm nodded and took the datapad back opening his email and selecting the link. It led to a red and white site that had a stylized _FA_ at the top left corner. He clicked the log-in section and it filled automatically.

"I made the account, but I didn't want to post without you." Bookworm admitted, feeling a little shy about it. Rasa smiled at that before her eyes went to his username.

"_CloneTrooperBookworm_?"

Bookworm gave her a sheepish smile. "I know you said not to use personal information, but would you suspect a trooper of publishing fiction?"

Rasa looked conflicted and maybe a little like she wanted to laugh, but was trying to be stern.

"Fair," she finally admitted and squeezed close so she could click on the screen. "So you've uploaded the doc, good. Warning, check, language, check, completed fic, check. What's the title? _a cold night over hoth_? Not bad. I like the call back to the poem they read. Lets see, check, check, check. Now you just press Post."

Bookworm did, throat tight, and watched as it generated.

He felt a small hand wrap around his and looked over to find Rasa looking at him understanding.

"Posting nerves, huh?" she said with a smile. "I have to distract myself. We can watch a HoloFilm. I found one based off that Mandalorian book you live so much."

Bookworm couldn't stop a happy noise of his own or the way his hands started moving at the idea. _There was a HoloFilm_?

Rasa beamed and then frown glancing at her chrono.

"You don't need to meet with your Squad do you?"

Bookworm froze and looked. It was late. He dug out his comm and saw he had a message from Silver telling him the others had headed out to 79's and to meet them there. Bookworm bit his lip. He knew about bars in theory and they sounded crowded even if it would mostly be brothers. By comparison staying with Rasa seemed a much calmer option. 

Then he remembered Keller's stern commentary about not drinking for at least 24 hours.

"They're going to 79's, I need to tell them I can't drink anyway." Bookworm said and looked at her, holding the comm and hesitating.

"You can comm them on the balcony if you want." Rasa said. "Other side of the living room."

Bookworm nodded and stood up, stretching his limbs and enjoying the pop of them. He could hear Gryss humming in the kitchen and the sound of small clicks he wasn't sure of the source of. As he stepped into the living room he froze seeing Laila making a bed that had folded out of the couch. The low table with the rock had been moved out of the way and he noted there was a set of folded clothing on it that resembled a sleeping outfit. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps, a pillow in her arms.

"It's late," she said, blue eyes narrowed, and an almost growl in her voice. "I don't feel comfortable driving in this kind of traffic and you are too new to Coruscant to navigate it right now. Unless you have someone willing to pick you up you get the couch. I'm not letting you run off an get yourself hurt again."

Bookworm looked between her and the bed that was two of his bunks covered in a thick looking duvet of mixed fabric squares and the softness of the pillow in her arms. It wasn't friendly, but he still felt his face heat at the gesture. It was also the longest thing she'd said to him.

"Thank you. Yes, sir," he found himself saying and then ducked his head. "I need to report to my CO."

He gestured vaguely towards the door that he could see a balcony through. Laila nodded and Bookworm took it as a dismissal.

Sergeant Junior took a few moments to pick up, but when he did Bookworm could hear music in the background. It took a couple attempts but the Sergeant eventually understood what he was saying. He promised to report Bookworm's location and assured him he could be 'initiated' tomorrow night so not to feel to left out. He ended the call with a slightly salacious "have _fun_ vod'ika and remember your boost". Bookworm decided to ignore that and gave Laila a respectful nod before hurrying back to hide in Rasa's room.

He relaxed, relieved to hear the sound cut off behind him, and curled up beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keller was a gift and joy to write. And guest appearance of Kara Squad! Bookworm's batchmates definitely know now. 
> 
> Longest chapter yet and it was mostly the two introverts deciding we could explore or we could stay in a therapy cuddle?
> 
> Should I be wirking on the next chapter of Narudar? Yes. Is Obi-Wan giving me fits? Also yes. Weekend goals though.

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr ](https://amillionstarsandyouchoosethisone.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to come scream.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Clone Company Companion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828959) by [Kaister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaister/pseuds/Kaister)


End file.
